Part Forty-five:
(sorry it's been so long)
Eternal Flame
~~~~~~~~~~
"Close your eyes
Give me your hand, darling
Do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand?
~~~~~~~~~~
"....so she didn't think anyone could
hear her...but
I was standing...by the bookcase
in....the very back...of
the....library...."
"And what did you hear, kitten?"
Leaning back against a tombstone,
Spike couldn't help smiling
as he watched the slayer work
while keeping up a running
commentary on the mundane aspects of
her day at school.
There was something completely
charming about seeing her
holding her own so effortlessly
against two vampires, and carrying
on the kind of conversation that
would more naturally be babbled
in his ear while sitting in a movie
theater and waiting for the show
to begin.
"....saying that it looked like she'd
had her hair cut by a gardener
with a rusty pair of hedge trimmers!
I mean, what kind of....."
"Mind your left, Slayer!" He
frowned and began to straighten
up then relaxed again as Buffy swung
one fist up and back, not
even bothering to turn around,
punching the vamp who'd
been attempting to attack her from
behind and sending him to
the ground in a heap.
"...thing is THAT to say?" Reaching
into the waistband of her
jeans, she pulled out a stake,
dropped to one knee, planted
it in the vampire's chest, then
jumped to her feet again. "And
THEN she asked if Willow bought ALL
her clothes at the Goodwill
Thrift Shop." She ducked and lunged
forward, burying her
shoulder in the abdomen of the second
vamp, who'd made the
colossal mistake of charging at her
head on, threw him up and
over onto his back, then reached down
and snapped his neck
as easily as fireplace kindling.
"Oh! I forgot to tell you...I got a
B+ on my French midterm...thanks to
you." She smiled and
blew him a kiss.
Spike's grin widened as he recalled
the study sessions that had
resulted in her highest French grade
ever....
Three days after they had broken the
news to Joyce about
who and what Buffy really was,
'William' had scheduled an
appointment with a Realtor. After
listening to his requirements,
it had taken the agent less than ten
minutes to find what he
wanted. Before the end of the day,
an offer had been made
and accepted.
Located on Waterside Drive, the Tudor
style home sat directly
on the lake front. It had four
bedrooms in total and the two
master suites had bathrooms equipped
with jacuzzi tubs. The
main room was warm and inviting,
despite it's 2 story vaulted
ceiling; it had a large brick
fireplace and picture windows
overlooking the lake. There was an
open gourmet kitchen with
acres of counter space, brand new
built-ins, and a breakfast
nook. The dining room was spacious
as well, and one wall
was nothing but french doors opening
onto a tiled patio.
The third level had an open loft,
perfect for turning into
a study or office. Immediately
adjacent was a game room
with another fireplace and a wet bar.
Sitting on a heavily treed lot in a
quiet neighborhood, the
four thousand square foot home
offered ultimate privacy; not
one of the neighbors gave so much as
a second thought as
to why the house's new owner had
heavy locking shutters
installed on every window.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Do you feel the same
Am I only dreaming?
Or is this burning
an eternal flame....?"
~~~~~~~~~~
As Buffy rambled on about this and
that, he continued to be
highly amused by the entire
situation. The fact that he was sitting
in a cemetery, listening to a teenage
girl....a SLAYER!...chatter
about nonsensical subjects that he'd
once had less than zero
interest in, only pointed out more
clearly how totally besotted
he was with her.
When he had gotten into the habit of
accompanying her on
her rounds he wasn't quite sure. All
he could really remember
on the subject was walking with her
in the park one night and
feeling a delicious mixture of pride
in her skill and admiration
for the sheer poetic energy she
emitted when she fought.
Her delicate appearance, combined
with her 'kicking ass and
taking names' attitude, kept him in a
constant state of arousal,
while her humorous observations could
drive him to helpless
laughter.
After that first time, he'd found
himself going along every
night. He couldn't even begin to kid
himself into the notion
that he was doing it for her
protection, since he'd never met
anyone in less need of being
protected, by him or anyone else.
Life...or 'un' life...had suddenly
become so much more than
it had ever been. Everything had
changed, and he was happier
than he could remember being at any
time before, quite content
to let this small girl insinuate
herself into every nook and cranny
of his existence.
Although he couldn't possibly have
cared less about their reactions
for himself, he'd been pleased for
Buffy's sake that her friends and
watcher had accepted him with a
minimal amount of of resistance for
They were nice enough kids, if
slightly irritating at times, but he was
willing to tolerate them since it
meant so much to her.
Most of them, anyway. As hard as he
tried, he couldn't rid
himself of a lingering dislike for
Xander. And, since it seemed
to be mutual, he didn't try very
hard.
Of course, none of them knew yet that
he was a vampire. Things
would change when that information
was made public, he had no
doubt.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I believe
It's meant to be, darling
I watch you when you're sleeping
You belong with me..."
~~~~~~~~~~
After finishing off the third
vampire, Buffy gave her
stake a jaunty twirl. "Am I good, or
am I good?"
Smiling, Spike opened his mouth to
reply, only to have
it snap shut when he saw a new threat
drop out of the
sky...literally. Before he had time
to react, even to shout
a warning, another vamp dropped out
of a tree and landed
on the slayer.
Buffy hit the ground hard, all her
wind knocked out of her
by the heavy force of the fall. Her
stake flew out of her hand,
landing three feet from Spike.
Without even thinking, he leaned over
and picked it up. Angrier
than he could ever remember being, he
took four long strides
and planted his foot in the vampire's
side, kicking him off her
and sending him flying a good ten
feet away.
Rage still fueling him, he followed
after the vampire, bent over
and grabbed the front of his coat,
lifting him completely off the
ground. When the vampire was hanging
in his grasp, kicking his
feet and trying to wriggle free,
Spike tightened his grip around
the stake. "Time for you to
die....permanently."
The vampire continued his efforts to
free himself. "What's your
fucking problem, man?" he squeaked.
"She's the goddamn slay-
er.....we're vampires!"
"Yeah, well..." Spike shrugged.
"Sorry about this, mate." He
glanced at Buffy, and saw her sitting
up, rubbing the side of her
head. He could smell the blood
trickling from a cut she'd sustained
when she'd hit the ground. "On
second thought...no, I'm not," he
added, bringing the stake up and
driving it home.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Do you feel the same
Am I only dreaming?
Or is this burning
an eternal flame?"
~~~~~~~~~~
Once the vampire was dust, he turned
and went to
Buffy's side, kneeling next to her.
"You all right, love?" he
asked, tossing the stake down and
taking her chin in his
hand. He tilted her head to one side
and examined the
cut. It wasn't deep, and he realized
she'd probably scraped
against a sharp rock when she'd hit
the ground.
"I'm okay," she reported, placing her
hands in his and
letting him pull her to her feet.
"Where the heck did that
one come from?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. He
wasn't here originally.
Must have shown up after the fight
started." He kept her
close to him, running his hands up
and down her back. "Are
you sure you're all right?"
She nodded. "Sure I'm sure. Not a
scratch on....oh, great...am
I bleeding? I am, aren't I?" One
hand came up and touched
cut on her head. "I'm bleeding."
He took her hand, pulling it away.
"Stop that. Your hands are
dirty..do you want an infection?"
Reaching into the pocket of
his coat, he pulled out a clean white
handkerchief and dabbed
at the trickle of blood just below
her ear. "It's not so bad, sweet-
heart," he informed her. "Not deep
at all. Might need just one
stitch to..."
She slithered out of his grasp like a
greased snake. "I don't
think so," she announced, turning her
back to get away.
"Come back here!" He stuffed the
handkerchief back in his
pocket and strode after her.
She heard him coming and sped up.
"I'm NOT getting any
stitches. I've had way worse than
this before and I don't
need anyone to sew me back together!"
Putting on a little extra speed, he
caught her arm and
pulled her to a stop. "Maybe, but
this is on your face," he
told her. "It'll leave a scar if
it's not closed up properly."
"Like I care about a little scar,"
she said, trying to tug
her arm free. "Besides, I can always
fix my hair to cover
it up."
"Buffy..."
"No. I don't want any stitches and
you can't make me!"
"You're acting like a child."
"I don't care." She freed herself
and tried once again to
escape entirely.
He sighed, resigned. "All right, all
right...no stitches." He
grabbed her arm again and turned her.
"But we need to close
the cut."
Buffy remained still. "How?"
"I can do it myself."
She glared at him suspiciously. "It
better not involve a needle
and thread."
"It doesn't," he chuckled, then
paused a moment. "Do you trust me?"
"Well, sure. Why? What are you
gonna do to me?"
He cupped her face in his hands,
turning it just slightly, then
let his demon loose. "You'll see,"
he whispered in her ear.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Say my name
Sun shines through the rain
A whole life so lonely
And then you come and ease the pain
I don't want to lose this feeling, oh.."
~~~~~~~~~~